


Adore Me

by justwantedtodance



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Apotheosis, Cunnilingus, Dom Emma, F/M, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:56:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21927817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justwantedtodance/pseuds/justwantedtodance
Summary: Tonight, it's all about Emma. Title from "Black Friday" but no spoilers for the show.
Relationships: Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43





	Adore Me

Normally, she wouldn’t have picked something so ostentatious or girly, but it’s a special occasion.

Emma Perkins and sparkles, makeup, and dresses do not belong in the same sentence, but it’s not every day that her favorite professor nominates her for an award that’s being presented at a formal gala. She’s being honored for the research she and Hidgens worked on as part of her botany degree, and while it is an incredible accomplishment that she has to show for herself, she not-so-subtly gave Hidgens clearance to give the acceptance speech. He’s better at those sorts of sappy rehearsed things anyhow.

Good news is she gets to bring a plus-one, the only person she cares about seeing her accept the award tonight.

“You almost ready, babe,” Paul calls from the living room. Emma forbade him from seeing her outfit until she’s completely ready. While it’s nearly impossible not to sneak a peek at the beautiful woman he’s imagining sitting cross-legged on his bathroom countertop applying eyeliner, Paul busies himself with making sure he has the directions to the venue and gives his hair one last glance in the hallway mirror.

“Almost,” she responds. The vision in Paul’s head is nearly identical except she’s curling her eyelashes.

(He might have peeked through the crack in the door.)

Emma put a bit of thought into her outfit choice. She shimmies into the emerald green floor-length gown and slips the rhinestone hook into the eye at the center of her back to fasten the straps that form an X across her back. The necklace she picked coordinates well with the single gem at her back, and it reminds her of a piece fit for an old Hollywood film star. Stilettos never have been and never will be her friend, but she did find a pair of strappy heels with just enough height to make her feel a little taller without being uncomfortable to walk in. For once, she lets her hair down in soft curls that graze her shoulder blades, save for two pieces twisted back on either side, and seeing that, she thinks, might give Paul the biggest shock of any.

Moment of truth, Perkins. It’s now or never.

She takes a deep breath and makes her way into the living room. Paul’s adjusting his tie once more when the sound of high heels clicking against the hardwood floor makes his head snap up. Holy shit.

... he didn’t mean to say that out loud.

“Is it too much? I have another dress if you think this one’s too—“

“You’re perfect. So perfect. God, you… you look stunning, Emma. Turn around, I want to see the whole thing.” Emma blushes and heeds his request, flaunting the dangerously low back that she expects will elicit a hungry response from him. Sure enough.

“See something you like, Matthews,” Emma teases as she tosses her hair over her shoulder to look back at him.

“Do I ever?” Paul wraps his arms around her waist from behind and plants kisses along the now exposed skin of her neck, but Emma protests, wriggling in his grip.

“Hope it was worth the wait because now you get to stare at me in this _all night long_.” She elongates the last words while swiveling her hips against him. Seems she wants to play a dangerous game. Thankfully, two can play.

“You’re sure I can’t have just one little taste before we go?”

Emma turns around to face him, forcing herself to be authoritative despite it being the absolute last thing she wants to do because _god damn_ , she doesn’t think she’s ever heard Paul sound so fucking sexy. “We’re going to be late if we don’t leave in the next 5 minutes.” To appease him, she does give him a quick peck on the lips. She worked too hard on her lipstick to ruin it now. “Plus, you and I both know one taste turns into two, which turns into not leaving the bed until the next afternoon.”

Paul hums and tucks a curl behind her ear. “Later then?”

“If you can behave yourself.” She pinches his cheek before turning on her heel to grab her purse.

“I’ll be a perfect gentleman, Emma.” He steps in front of her to open the front door and lets her walk out first. “See? And look,” he follows behind her after locking the door and escorts her with a hand on her back. “Am I behaving well enough yet?”

Emma smiles at him. Always eager to please, that Paul. “For now.”

They enter the venue just before the presentation of awards begins, and Emma feels Paul’s hand drifting precariously down her spine as he walks with her to their table with Hidgens and a few other staff members. When his hand tightens around her hip, she raises an eyebrow that reads “Don’t push it” clear as day. Guiltily, Paul returns his hand to its more platonic position in the small of her back and pulls her chair out for her.

“Oh, Emma dear, I almost didn’t recognize you! You look extraordinary,” Hidgens exclaims. He wraps her in a quick hug before letting her sit and steps behind her chair to greet Paul. “Paul, wonderful to see you as always.”

“You too, sir.”

“Now, Emma, I know you asked me to give the acceptance speech, but I hope you’ll still join me on stage.”

She nods. “Of course. You think I wore this dress just so Paul could see it,” she jokes.

“I take offense to that,” her boyfriend scoffs.

Emma laughs it off and leans into his ear, whispering to him. “They all get to see the dress on me, but you’re the only one who gets to see it off of me.” Paul gulps, his cheeks flushing with heat at the image of her satin dress in a puddle on the floor. “Be good,” she sing-songs quietly as she returns to her conversation with her professor.

Hidgens gives a heartfelt dedication to Emma and her work ethic as she knew he would. Paul promises he won’t cheer too loudly when Emma is introduced on stage, and thankfully, he listens. In the standing ovation, he finds the best angle to snap a smiling picture of her looking at her professor, barely holding back tears as he raves about his favorite student. Sure, the professional photographers could work their magic, but Paul gets to keep the unfiltered moment when Emma looked his way with the most angelic smile and a small thumbs up.

Offstage, Emma and her professor, who’s become more of a father figure than any other men in her life, share an embrace.

“I hope you know how proud I am of you, Emma. You earned this award.”

“Nah, I couldn’t have done it without you though. It’s not mine, it’s ours.”

“Oh, stop being modest for once, Emma.” The older man gently places his hands on her shoulders and bends down a little to look at her directly. “I merely assisted with the experimental design and offered my suggestions when necessary. This truly belongs to you. Enjoy this moment. It’s alright to savor the attention sometimes, you know.”

Emma shrugs. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Thanks for the advice, professor.”

“I’m always happy to impart my wisdom, dear.” They walk back to their assigned table, but Hidgens pauses before they reach their seats. “Oh, Emma? On the subject of attention, you do know I wasn’t just talking about the award, right?” When her brow contorts in confusion, Henry’s head tilts towards Emma’s beau sitting at the table waving her over with an impossibly wide grin.

 _Oh_ , now she gets it.

Hidgens winks at her when recognition crosses her face. Her mouth drops open in shock, and she smacks at her professor’s arm at his insinuation. Did her professor seriously just give her sex advice? Well, weirder things have happened, she thinks, and she sits back down with a smile.

After the presentation of awards, there’s time left in the evening to socialize and dance to which Paul and Emma hastily decline in lieu of more enjoyable activities. But no one needed to know _that’s_ why they’re leaving so soon.

Emma gives a final goodbye to her professor, and he congratulates her once more. Paul moves to shake his hand but is quickly clapped on the back and pulled in for a friendly hug too.

“Treat her well, young man, you understand,” the older man whispers. “She’s a special one.”

Paul nods. “She sure is. Thank you, sir.”

Emma waves goodbye to Hidgens and makes her way back to Paul’s car, hand linked with his. As they approach the car, Paul wraps his arm around Emma’s shoulders to pull her in closer.

“So, how’d I do? Well-behaved enough for you?”

She mulls it over for a moment as Paul opens her door for her. “For the most part. I did have to correct you a few times, but you did manage to keep your promise and your hands mostly to yourself.”

Paul kisses her hand gently before driving away. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

“Perhaps,” Emma says, a lilt in her voice. “I’ll think about it.”

She thinks about it on the silent ride home, the tension growing thicker by the mile. A salacious thought crosses her mind, and she knows exactly what she needs to ask for, or rather, demand. Finally, Paul pulls into the driveway, parks the car, and waits for some acknowledgement from Emma that never comes, so he opens her door and leads her inside, resigned to get ready for bed.

Paul doesn’t make it very far in the house when he’s yanked backwards by his tie into Emma’s arms against the front door. Their lips meet in a frantic kiss, Emma’s hands pushing Paul’s jacket off his shoulders, and he kisses her back with just as much fervor.

Pulling away just slightly, he asks, “Emma, I’m sorry if I was out of line at all tonight. Please, can I make it up to you, baby?”

“You really wanna make it up to me?” Paul nods, his thumb brushing her cheek. Emma smiles mischievously. “Get on your knees.”

 _Oh, fuck._ Paul manages to keep that one to himself as he quickly obeys. Emma strokes her fingers across his face and jawline and relishes in the fact that the man at her feet is like putty in her hands. She doesn’t need to be told twice to savor this kind of attention from Paul.

“You’ve apologized to me quite a few times tonight, and while I accept your apology, I think there’s better ways that you can show me you’re sorry, don’t you?”

Emma reveals the leg hiding behind the slit in her dress, and Paul practically salivates at her feet. She’s always wanted to make a show out of a slit in a dress, and boy, was it worth it to see the look on her boyfriend’s face. All he can do is nod and comply.

He doesn’t go straight for the treasure; he never does. Even in his apparent desperation, he still builds her up and basks in foreplay like always. Kissing a line from the top of her shoe up her calf, Paul keeps his touch light, which only feeds Emma’s arousal. She’s a goner once his lips pass her knee and work up her inner thigh. His hands follow up her legs when he reaches the crease of her hip.

“May I?” Paul hooks his fingers under the waistband of her underwear but makes no move to remove them until Emma grants him permission.

“For the love of god, yes,” Emma moans, her hand now in Paul’s hair.

“Why have you been hiding these from me, Em?” Paul takes a look at what Emma’s dress has been concealing all night and makes a low sound of appreciation.

“Not hiding, just saving them for a special occasion.” He smirks up at her as he pockets the item in question. “Hey, I want those back!”

Paul chuckles. “Oh, baby, you’re not getting these back for a while if I have anything to say about it.”

“I don’t remember you having a say in that since you’re supposed to be using your mouth for more productive things.”

“Touché,” he quips, bringing his mouth to the place Emma needs it most. Her fingers tighten in Paul’s hair when he finally gives her what she’s been aching for. Emma sighs his name and leans her head back against the door. He licks up the wetness at her center, his nose brushing her clit, and she grinds onto his mouth in response, a breathy sound leaving her lips. “That feel good, Em?”

“Uh-huh…” Reduced to fragments and simple sentences, Paul knows he’s doing something right. “Shit, Paul…”

“Hmm?” The vibrations from the sound he makes spurs her even closer to her release, and she cries out, bringing his face impossibly closer to taste her deeper.

“Don’t fucking stop.” He never planned to and certainly won’t after that command. Paul slips a finger inside of her to help speed her orgasm along, which turns out to be beneficial since she comes apart not a minute later. That along with the irresistible noises he makes while all but devouring her is a recipe for success. When Paul lifts his head, his mouth glistening in the soft kitchen light, he puts on a big show of tasting every last drop of her.

Emma was correct; one taste did turn into two, this time in bed, the bed they didn’t bother to leave until half past noon the next day.

**Author's Note:**

> As I alluded to on Tumblr, I have tainted this tag with smut and probably will do so again since it seems to be my brand no matter the fandom. Hope you enjoyed it, and feel free to leave prompts/suggestions on my Tumblr @justwanted2dance 😊


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